


Not all angels have wings

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Ororo comforts, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), people are mean to Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:43:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7107358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storm and Kurt.<br/>Somebody has hurt Kurt and Storm is there for him, conflicted, wanting to strike back. Kind of character study of sorts, post movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not all angels have wings

Ororo had never seen Kurt cry. Which had to be some kind of feat, because it was obvious that the kid was incredibly sensitive. And yet, she'd never seen him cry, never seen him falter. Some of the other kids were often mean to him, even if it was not for his skin, for his accent, if not for his tail. And it affected him, she knew it did, she saw it in that incredibly expressive face of his. But he didn't let it change him, and treated the whole world with a kindness it had rarely shown him. 

She didn't think like that, didn't work like that. There hab never been place for kindness where she was from, specially being a mutant and woman. Life was a battelfield, and if you were kind you were just telling your foes that you were weak. Life didn't give you any gifts - if you wanted a decent life for you and your people you needed to fight, always fight. No place for doubt or niceness. 

She imagined what life must have been like for Kurt. She'd gotten enough grief for being mutant, and she could at least hide it most of the time. She couldn't imagine what it must have been, growing up blue and with a tail - surely it should had hardened him, it should had made him more bitter with a world that hated on him just for who he was, for something he never chose and had no control over. For something that shouldn't be reason for hate, just for being different. 

But Kurt gave and gave, was hopeful and loyal and didn't hate, not even those people who hurt him, not even those people who hated him. He kept being there, for everyone, and when they asked him to perform the impossible, he delivered, and didn't care about the physical or mental damage it would do to him. He was selfless in so many ways, some times it angered her. But she admired him, too, admired his capacity for good and positivity in the face of adversity. 

The 13th of June, eleven at night, over a year since Storm joined the school, since she met all the people she now considers friends, she saw the impossible: Kurt was crying. There were tears flowing freely down his face and his big eyes were bloodshot, so she knew it had been going on for a while. She wished it was something like him missing his home, or having lost something important... But it was not. There was a long gash with stitches in one of his cheeks and his tail was bandaged and not moving like it should. Someone had hurt him, even here, among peers. 

"Kurt?"

He looked at her and there was an expression of sorrow she's never seen on him. She hated it. Kurt deserved only the best, not that crap.

"Are you...." Not ok, not all right. He obviously was neither of those things. "How are you?"

"I am tired, Ororo. Exhausted."

And she understood it, because sometimes even her was tired of everything: of the way people spoke about mutants, about women, of how differently she was treated than some of her other classmates. And at least, people knew better than to physically assault her. 

"It's me, isn't it? It has to be me. I cannot be free of the demon no matter how hard I try."

Boy, had he tried. He prayed, he was generous and harmless, he was helpful ALWAYS and if it that wasn't enough he'd done those angel marks on himself. To try and purge. Every time she thought he'd hurt himself that way for thinking he had sinned... That he was a sin... It almost physically hurt her. 

But this was not the time for that. Kurt was crying and she needed to be there for him.

"It's not you, Kurt, it never is. It's their ignorance. Their stupidity and their fear. I wish that I could help you see, the way it's so clear to us, that you are the furthest thing from a demon. Somewhere out there, the Angels are proud of you, and wish they had your strength."

She got closer, buried her head in his shoulder and just lay there, on her friend. Enjyoing the touch, the warmth. He was warmer than expected. 

"Sometimes I wish I could fight back the whole world, you know?" She said, looking at the starry sky. "For you, for all of us. For all the injustice we'd been subjected to, and we'll continue to be. I'm tired, just like you."

She took one his blue hands in hers, heard his breathing, felt his heartbeat. And that alone was more soothing than any of the Professor's speeches. He was soothing, Kurt in his entirety. 

"Does it hurt a lot? Your tail?"

"I've had worse. And don't worry, it will heal."

If he didn't want to directly answer the question, it meant that yes it did, it hurt a lot, but he didn't want to worry her. That night, the 13th of June, she helped him to his bed and insisted on tucking him in. It soothed her mind, her hatred, her internal battle. 

He was her peace, her angel. 

But the 14th of June, the bastards that had done that to him would pay.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, feedback is all I ask for! Hope you enjoyed!


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